Lust
by Hella Jelena
Summary: "He'll try to destroy the Enterprise?" McCoy asked, shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. These touches were mesmerizing! He tried to concentrate on something else, anything, but the touch of her fingers on his. "He's on his own. Surely, he can't take on a whole starship, can he?" She laughed quietly, deep in her throat. "He's a Tal Shiar agent."  Sequel to Gluttony
1. Chapter 1

**This is Part 5 of the Deadly Sins series which eventually will explain why McCoy and Spock left Starfleet after the five year mission.**

**_Lust_ continues right where _Gluttony_ ended. If you're confused about the plot, you should read first _Pride_ then _Sloth_ then _Envy _and then _Gluttony_ ;-) … Or just the summary below. If you're familiar with the plot so far, you deserve my respect :-D and you should skip the summary or you're going to get bored.**

_Doctor McCoy was mind raped on Meriah Five by Delihan, a high official of Meriah. He recovered with the help of Spock and Kirk who found out that the Romulans, foremost Commander Tamulok, had their fingers in it too. Delihan is imprisoned on Meriah for treason. _(Pride)

_The Enterprise answers a distress call, and finds that all Romulans of Tamulok's ship and all Vulcans from the ship that escorted them back to Romulan space, have been infected with a virus that controls their minds. Spock is affected too and under the influence of the virus he attempts to murder McCoy. In the end, everyone is saved and cured from the virus. Tamulok is beamed on board the Enterprise, and T'Plok, a female Vulcan doctor, takes residence in sickbay to help out the understaffed medical crew of the Enterprise. _(Sloth)

_Tamulok escapes with the help of T'Plok, who turned out to be a Romulan spy called Velal. While Tamulok manages to stay on the run, Velal is taken into custody. She admits that Tamulok is a danger not only to the Federation but also to the Romulan Star Empire and she wants to have him eliminated. However, she seems to be unable to kill him herself. _(Envy)

_Kirk and McCoy beam into the Prolia Prison Complex on Meriah to question Delihan about Tamulok's whereabouts. They find out that all prisoners in that camp are infected with the virus (c.f. _Sloth_) and are telepathically controlled by the free Meriahns outside the prison. When the prisoners start to attack them, they manage to escape with the help of Delihan who later dies in an accident before he could tell them anything about Tamulok. McCoy manages to get an injured Kirk to safety, but cannot escape himself. Meanwhile, Spock has to decide between getting Kirk to a neurosurgeon on Starbase 3 in order to save his life or investing precious time to work out a risky plan to save McCoy. Spock decides to rescue McCoy who is then able to help Kirk. Afterwards McCoy is utterly exhausted and unable to sleep. Kirk and Spock, in an attempt to help McCoy rest, come to McCoy's quarters and coax him into sleeping with Kirk beside him. _(Gluttony)

o0o

Lust is usually thought of as excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature. (Wikipedia)

**Lust**

McCoy floated between dream and reality. His pillow was soft beneath him and made a perfect dent for the side of his face. His blanket lay losely over his body, keeping in the langurous warmth around it. He could feel a light pressure of something pressed against his back, something warm, and soft that made him feel snug and secure. A warm, gentle breeze brushed against the back of his neck in a regular rhythm.

McCoy knew he was in his own bed, hovering in a half-conscious and strangely omnipotent state, where he could form reality according to his wishes, and travel to wherever he wanted. The porch of his parents' house, maybe?

Immediately, he found himself lying in a hammock that he'd put up there one summer when he was a boy of fourteen or fifteen. It was one of those warm, humid nights, when the air was heavy, laden with the fragrance of the jasmine vine that grew all over the side of the house.

He concentrated and smelled it again. There was something else. … Music! His parents were sitting inside the house, listening to classical music he didn't like. He used to close every door between him and that noise, but some figments of the melody had always reached his ears. It was a pleasant sound now, a reminder of his happy and sheltered childhood, of being loved and encouraged by his parents, though at the time, it had been highly annoying.

Gemma was sitting on the porch railing, furiously typing on her PADD whose artificial light softly illuminated her face in a greyish-blue glow, making the rough scars on her right cheek and her neck almost disappear. He had thought her breathtakingly beautiful then, and had contemplated on how to tell her that, without sounding like a complete jerk. She hadn't worn her scarf to hide the wrinkly, red skin on her neck that night, because he'd convinced her that he didn't care how she looked like, but only cared about what she had in her brilliant brain. It had taken him all of his skills of persuasion to get her to work with him on the biology project.

Gemma usually kept to herself, out of habit. Her appearance, a result from an accident she'd had as a ten-year-old, made her subject to all kinds of mean behaviour from their peers. Leonard felt sorry for her and had tried to befriend her before, but she'd always blocked off any advances. She mistrusted his good intentions, he'd believed then.

He knew better now. She had tried to avoid becoming emotionally attached to anyone, after having lost her mother and sister in same accident. It was a familiar strategy, one that he himself had adopted years later - or had tried to.

A harsh sound threatened to bring him back to the here and now, a cough. McCoy clenched his eyes shut and concentrated on those violins, the cellos and a that moanful clarinet until he really heard the music in the background again, not at all sure if it was reality or imagination. The soft breeze against the back of his neck resumed after a small pause, and McCoy finally succeeded in convincing his mind to go on dreaming.

He was back in his teens, much more optimistic and naive, much less bitter and experienced. Things were less complicated, the only thing he was interested in was sitting on his parents' porch railing across from him, typing a text about honeybees into that PADD.

Gemma's enthusiasm for biology and her knowledge of scientific methodology had impressed him, he really _did _want her as a project partner, though he had to admit that he had developed his own secret agenda during their project work. He wanted to get her to _like_ him.

No, that wasn't true. He wanted to make her _happy_, get her to smile, truly _smile_ at him, a genuine smile that was a sign of trust, friendship and contentment. He wasn't too far away from achieving that goal now. And maybe, just _maybe_, she would like him enough to hold his hand? Or give him just a slight brush on his lips with that sweet mouth of hers? Maybe this was the night? If only that annoying music would stop!

"Let's go for a walk!" he said, sliding out of the hammock and walking up to stand before her.

He could see her raise an annoyed eyebrow at him, something he found extremely appealing. "I can't type while I'm walking."

He reached for the PADD in her hands, took it from her, gently touching her fingers in the process. "And I can't concentrate with Beethoven fiddling in the background," he complained, looking into her amazing eyes, hoping that he didn't look like a whining little kid at the moment.

"It's Mozart," she corrected him with a superior smile, "and it's not fiddling. That's the 40th symphony in G-minor."

He smiled. She knew everything about biology _and_ classical music! He was impressed. "Please?"

And there it was, Gemma was smiling at him. He could feel a warmth forming in his chest that slowly spread all through his body, until it reached the tips of his toes. They had been so happy then, excited, unsure, but incredibly happy.

As he saw himself and Gemma hand-in-hand, taking a walk around the lake, all of a sudden a strange dread and sadness crept up inside him that didn't originate from his teenage self, but from Doctor McCoy of the USS Enterprise, watching young Lenny. It was as if he was looking at a photograph in his grandma's scrap book, where people were smiling and laughing on the dusty pages – only he knew that these people had turned into dust themselves, eaten by the worms, long ago.

Of course, he knew well what had happened near the lake that night. Those bullies had been his friends once, but when they had picked on Gemma, in his naivité he'd felt the need to protect her, to be her knight in shining armour and avenge her, despite Gemma begging him to leave them alone.

He'd started the fight, which had ended with him and Brad King being hospitalized. Gemma had retreated back into her shell, and had never come out again. That biology project had never been finished and he'd never gotten that kiss.

It didn't need to end like that _now_, he reminded himself. He was older, more experienced, and wiser.

"Hey Lenny, are you taking that gremlin out on a date?"

He could hear them again, felt Gemma let go of his hand at the voice, and despite himself, he sensed the hot anger burn inside him at that. Before he knew it, he wanted to land his fist in Brad's face again, after all these years, and even with knowing to where all of this would lead to. He turned towards Brad's grinning mug, his arm was raised, his fist balled, and for the fraction of a second he was certain that this was history repeating itself … . Then, a restraining arm over his chest held him back. "Easy, Bones."

"Jim!" he shouted, in surprise.

"Gremlin, gremlin! Don't feed her after midnight, Lenny!"

He shook off Jim's arm, but had found his control again. Before he could give a peppered reply, he heard Spock who had appeared to his right: "Are you comparing Gemma to a mythological creature that was said to have manipulated aircraft engines in your World War II, because she is so talented in mechanics?"

McCoy rolled his eyes. Spock's comment was inappropriate, as always. These guys needed a verbal kick in the ass, not some smartass lecture about mythology.

"What?" the teen looked at Spock, confusedly.

"Do you want him to speak a little slower?" McCoy asked, relishing the fact that Brad King looked like a retard at this very moment. Maybe Spock's strategy hadn't been so bad after all.

The teenager looked at Spock, furrowing his brows.

"And who are _you_, you pointed-eared gremlin?"

"My name is Spock."

"I just insulted you, Spock. Don't you want to defend yourself?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed boy."

Gemma laughed behind them and McCoy found himself supressing a chuckle, but a quiet sound, resembling a moan. escaped his lips.

"Shh, Bones, it's alright. You're safe," he heard a soft voice from behind, and the pressure on his back grew more intense. Jim was wrapping an arm around his torso, pulling him back against his chest.

"Jim?" he whispered, a bit confused. He'd seen Jim in his dream, standing close beside him, preventing him from making a mistake. But now, … he really _was_ here, in his _bed_.

"Yeah. You're fine, I'm here," Jim said quietly.

It burst the bubble. McCoy was brought back to reality. The lake, Brad King and Gemma all faded back into his memories of the past, the scrap book was closed and put away on the shelf.

What stayed, were Jim and Spock. Jim was hugging him from behind, and Spock was sitting in his desk chair, intently watching them both.

He attempted to free himself from Jim's embrace. "I see that," he said, and Jim let go.

"You were shouting the captain's name," Spock explained Jim's behaviour calmly.

"I doubt it. I had a dream about my childhood," he mumbled, sitting up in bed. He became aware of the fact that he was still wearing the surgical scrubs he had worn when he'd operated on Jim, which seemed ages ago, now.

"Were we there, too?" Jim asked casually.

McCoy squinted at him suspiciously. Jim had used his most innocent voice, which meant that he was up to something. He wanted to psychoanalyze him, probably.

"I had a happy childhood. Which means neither of you could have been there," he said sarcastically, and got his feet out of the bed. He still wore his boots, he noticed.

_Geez, they fussed all over me, and then they let me go to sleep in my clothes and boots?_

"Did you have a friend called Jim in your childhood, as well?" Spock was determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Yes," he curtly replied, which wasn't even a lie. He got up, half expecting to become dizzy, but it didn't happen. Satisfied, he looked down at Jim, then Spock. "Well, I have work to do. When you're finished here, Spock, don't forget to bring Jim to sickbay for a check-up!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Spock raise an eyebrow at him, so he hurried to get out before he was drawn into a discussion about his well-being, his need for something to eat, a shower, or another mind meld. He'd definitely had too many of those, lately.

He almost ran through the corridors until he reached sickbay, then hesitated just a moment, before rushing in. Noting briefly that no one was currently there, he swiflty slipped into his office and let himself fall into his chair.

His two friends were invading too much of his personal space. He decided. What were they doing in his childhood memories? _It weren't memories, it was a strange dream, an attempt to fix something in your past, _he reminded himself.

_What's done is done. _And if, just supposedly _if_, that really _was_ possible, why would he need Jim and Spock to help him? Shouldn't it have been easy to _not_ make the same mistake _again_? He stared off into the space of his office. Even in his dream he'd been about to break Brad King's nose again. _Why?_ He wasn't that rash anymore, if anything, then _he_ would have to hold _Jim _back from a fist fight, not the other way around, wouldn't he?

And Spock, … he certainly didn't need _Spock_ to help him insult a teenager. He was actually famous for his quick wit. Everyone on the Enterprise knew he never refused to engage in an argument with Sp … .

_Aww, hell. _"I don't need those two to define myself," he said to his monitor. _But you still _need_ them,_ a voice in his head said back.

"Osborne to sickbay," the intercomm squawked and ended his musings. It was a welcome distraction. "McCoy here."

"Doctor McCoy, … our Romulan passenger needs a doctor," the security officer said.

McCoy sighed. He prided himself in not making housecalls. He was a doctor and not some kind of gofer service boy. However, that Romulan was in the brig, and security probably wasn't willing to let her out.

"What's wrong?" he asked, trying to determine what he needed to carry.

"She appears to be having ... a fever," the lieutenant replied, unsure.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask for a diagnosis, I just want to know why you think she needs a doctor."

He heard some shouting in the background, but couldn't make out the words. Then: "Well. doctor, she says, she isn't sick, only has an urgent request to make of you personally. But honestly, she isn't quite herself," Osborne explained, then chuckled, "I'd say, it's rabies."

He heard Velal swear at Osborne who shouted back an insult, something about her ears. It made McCoy angry for some reason. "Back off, lieutenant!" he barked. Then, more controlled: "I'm on my way."

He grabbed a standard medkit and left his office, but a vague feeling in his gut told him that Velal wanted not his services as a doctor, but something completely different.


	2. Chapter 2

_Reference (again) to _The Empath_. _

_I am guessing about McCoy's career in Starfleet, before he joined Kirk on the Enterprise, but I figured as a doctor, especially one who seems to have a bit of an authority problem, he would have had many assignments and transfers, probably more than Spock or Kirk. Maybe I could have looked that up somewhere, but I didn't want to._

o0o

Kirk studied Spock's face which in turn scrutinized his own.

When he'd woken up in sickbay after his brain surgery, he'd been alone. Well, except for Nurse Chapel who was there, making him answer questions, do Maths, and all the usual stuff.

But neither Spock nor McCoy had been with him, and although Chapel had assured him they were both well, it had disquieted him immensely. It could only mean something was really wrong.

When Spock had finally arrived at his bedside, he'd fired questions at his first officer. Although, the Vulcan had answered each one of them, Kirk still had the feeling Spock had been withholding information from him.

Spock had answered each questions elaborately enough, even telling him, that almost everything had been recorded by Uhura, and that he could watch for himself what had happened in the control room of that grinding mill in Prolia. He'd listened to how Bones had subjected himself to a brief, but undoubtedly very unsettling mind meld by Delihan again, only on his behalf. Spock told him how McCoy had befriended a Meriahni slave, and what he'd found out about the Meriahni society. He'd reported on how Bones had saved Kirk through the escape capsule, how Delihan had died before being able to give him any information about Tamulok's whereabouts, how McCoy's mental stability in the prison had deteriorated, and how very disturbing these pictures had been for the bridge crew. Kirk's own heart ached to no end at Spock's descriptions, and he suspected Spock also had been quite disturbed by the events.

When interrogated about his own performance during the crisis, Spock also recounted the events accurately, according to Kirk's estimation. He didn't leave out his own emotional outbreak (in Vulcan terms) in front of Pulliam, which had resulted in her refusing to treat him, or his decision to disregard direct orders by Starfleet Command, which fortunately had turned out to be fake orders.

Still, there had been a nagging feeling in Kirk that there was something that Spock had left unsaid, something that was troubling him. When Scotty had appeared in sickbay, and had told them about his encounter with Bones in the rec room, however, Kirk had pushed his concerns for his Vulcan friend away temporarily, in favour of focussing all of his attention on taking care of his other troubled friend.

Bones was hurting, he had known that. And although McCoy had a capacity of sitting out physical and emotional pain that exceeded that of anyone else he knew (any _human_ at least), he had been determined to help. He owed him so much more than that.

Had he succeeded? Probably only minutely. At least Bones had slept for a couple of hours, but had taken the first opportunity to escape them. _I need another plan._

However, Bones really did have amazing powers of self-healing. Maybe, he just needed a few hours to himself. He'd surely meet him again when he was back in sickbay. Until that happened, he could concentrate on Spock.

"How long before we reach Starbase 3, Spock?"

"Five hours," the Vulcan replied, without taking a look at the chronometer, or any other instrument for that matter. Kirk didn't doubt Spock knew exactly what time it was, and at what speed the Enterprise was going, but something else surprised him.

"And how many minutes, seconds?" he asked.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "It's now four hours, 59 minutes and 53 seconds, Captain."

"Ah. Well, then, …," he stretched out on the bed and yawned, "on Starbase 3, we need to give Velal over to the officials. And Pulliam. We should also request a replacement for them. Medical mustn't be understaffed for long."

"Captain, what will happen to Velal?"

The question surprised Jim, although he had brooded over the question for a bit himself. He liked Velal, as much as he _could_ like a Romulan spy and enemy of the Federation. He was sure whatever Starfleet Command had planned for her, wasn't nice.

"Well, she infiltrated the crew of a Starfleet vessel, Spock. For years. She could have gathered sensitve information about technology, personnel, politics, _anything_ really. The Romulans are our enemies, the peace we've had since the end of the Romulan War is fragile, to say the least. … They will question her, and lock her up. She will be separated from other inmates, the risk of her sharing sensitve information with the enemy, is too high," Kirk said, watching Spock who just nodded.

"Yes, Captain, that would be the logical conclusion."

"Why are you asking?"

"I was examining the concept of human moral principles."

"Spock, I don't like it either. But, she _is_ a danger to the Federation, and we must protect ourselves."

"At the cost of disregarding an individual's right of physical and mental integrity."

"Just because she will be put in solitary confinement, doesn't mean she'll be hurt." … _m__uch, _he finished the sentence in his mind. Of course, solitary confinement, even in a Federation prison, would be hurting anyone's psyche.

"If Romulans are biologically identical to Vulcans, and there is enough evidence that they are, being isolated over a longer period of time will lead to Velal's death within the next seven years," Spock said calmly, and Kirk wasn't quite sure to what exactly he was referring to. _Pon Farr? In females? _

There was still a lot he didn't know about Vulcans, he realised.

"Spock, doesn't a Vulcan proverb say: _The good of the many outweighs the good of the one_?"

Spock nodded in agreement, but Kirk already knew the Vulcan wasn't satisfied with that answer.

"When Dr. McCoy had been mind raped on Meriah Five, you believed that the Romulans might have acquired some sensitive information that could harm the Federation and its citizens, possibly hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people," Spock started to lecture.

"He did not give away _any_ information, Spock. It didn't happen! Now, you _know_ that!" he said angrily, though he had no idea, why he was so angry at Spock for simply pointing out a fact they both were aware of.

"Yes, Captain. But before I melded with him, we didn't know that. It could well have been that he had given the enemy a formula for a biological weapon that would kill all humans."

"What is your point, Spock?"

"Even though the whole Federation was at stake, you were willing to protect Doctor McCoy from another mind meld, forced upon him by a Vulcan healer."

Kirk swallowed. He hadn't at first. Not until McCoy had accused him of being a liar and had thrown up all over the captain's chair, nearly suffocating on his own vomit right then. His conscience was giving him a hard time about that. He should have been a better friend from the beginning.

"I don't regret that, Spock. It was the right thing to do," Kirk said.

"You risked quite a lot on behalf of a single individual," Spock concluded for him, and continued:

"Doctor McCoy himself pointed out that his personal rights, guaranteed by the United Federation of Planets, were being violated by same organization. The perversion is evident. However, I believe while you were willing to take a great risk to protect the doctor's rights, you aren't willing to take these risks on behalf of Velal."

Kirk nodded. He wouldn't, of course. Did that make him a hypocrite? "You are right. It's because Bones is my friend, Spock. Velal is not. It's … hard to explain. But, I would take the same risks for you."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Although I am honoured, I cannot approve, Captain. However, I believe it is understandable, considering ... you are human."

Kirk observed Spock closely, beginning to understand. He was trying to sort out his priorities.

"Spock," he started, "this mission has gone awry. I've made some bad decisions, I overstepped my authorities, I endangered myself and my CMO quite uselessly. I didn't pay attention when the situation was becoming more and more dangerous. I managed to injure my head and fall into a coma in that prison and made it necessary for Bones to work with Delihan to save my life when I had _promised_ him he wouldn't even have to _talk_ with Delihan. And now we're further away from catching Tamulok than ever."

Kirk saw the Vulcan equivalent of a wince in Spock's face at that last statement, and made a note to investigate later, but for now, he went on:

"You managed to bring this disaster to an end that enables me to look at myself in the mirror without self-loathing. If Bones had died in that prison, I … I don't know, I would probably be banging my head against the walls of a padded cell right now."

Spock's eyebrow arched once more. "No, Captain. You'd be dead, or dying. And that would have been my fault."

"What are you talking about?" Kirk pressed.

"When we had beamed you up and Doctor Taylor had examined you, I knew you needed neurosurgery that no one currently aboard the Enterprise could provide. I also knew that you needed it within a limited amount of time."

Suddenly Kirk saw it crystal clear before him. Spock, had had to decide between the lives of his two best friends. His heart constricted in sympathy of Spock, but also because he was reminded of that horrible day on Minara. He still wanted to thank every known deity in the universe that he hadn't had to actually voice his decision then. Ironically, he had never brought it over himself to thank the _only_ being in the universe that _really _deserved his gratitude for sparing him that decision: Bones.

Kirk forced himself to concentrate again.

"You're thinking you made an illogical decision, because you decided to stay in orbit of Meriah to try and save Bones, instead of leaving and getting me to a qualified surgeon on Starbase 3, without wasting any more time. Aren't you?"

"It was not certain that I would succeed in saving the doctor. Had I failed, you _and_ Doctor McCoy would have died, and I had estimated the chances of that happening at 66.7 per cent. Even if I had managed to save the doctor, chances were only at 33.3 per cent that he would be able to save you in turn. The logical decision therefore would have been to return to Starbase 3, as long as we had the chance to arrive in time for your surgery."

Kirk suddenly realized how lucky they'd all been. The gratitude he felt towards his first officer increased another notch. "Spock, you did good! Success proved you right!"

"Indeed. I was … lucky."

"We all were," Kirk agreed.

"Captain, may I ask you a question of personal nature?"

"Anything."

"You don't have to answer if it is too personal."

"Spock! What _is_ it?"

"On Minara Two, the Vians tried to force you to make a decision between saving my sanity and saving Doctor McCoy. Do you know what decision you would have made?"

Kirk drew in a surprised breath at Spock's question which was so near his own musings from just a few moments ago, if only considering the setting and not the subject.

After a short moment of hesitation, he nodded. It hadn't taken him long to make that decision on Minara, then. He'd actually already made it long before Bones had hypoed him into oblivion.

Spock waited, not inquring further, but watching the captain intently.

"I would have chosen to save Bones' life, Spock."

Spock nodded in acceptance, even understanding, which made Kirk continue quickly: "Spock, you and I, we have a lot in common. We both joined the Fleet early, we always strived towards a career on a starship. We're explorers, and we're absolutely comfortable in space. When we started wearing the uniform it was what we'd always wanted to do."

"I believe that is an accurate description."

"Of course it is. That's why we know, why we understand each other so well. We made similar experiences, we have the same motivations."

"It would seem so."

"Right. For Bones, it is different. He was a doctor before he joined Starfleet. He is and always will be a doctor first, and only after that, a member of Starfleet. He joined the service not because he was particularly fond of living in space, but because he found it more and more difficult to live on earth."

"So I've heard."

"Right. Spock, I'm trying to say, that I always feel compelled to protect him, because he, well, he is in a way, so _vulnerable_ here, in space."

"Doctor McCoy has been in Starfleet for 13 years. He has served on more vessels and spacestations than either you or I have. He has mastered hundreds of critical situations and crises, and not only always managed to survive, but also, on at least 4 separate occasions, he was the sole reason for why his team or his crew survived that crisis. He is anything else than vulnerable, and does not need your protection more than anyone else on board the Enterprise. If anything, he needs it even less, since he has proven he is capable of watching out for himself _and_ others."

Kirk smiled. "You are right. And don't ever tell him what I told you, because he won't talk to me for months after that. Truth is, however, Spock, my _instinct_ always tells me to protect him. That's why I probably will always choose _him _over you. It doesn't have anything to do with whom I think is more valuable, or whom I "like" better, it's just … he's a healer, Spock, he must not be harmed."

"I see," Spock looked past Jim, at the shelves behind him, where some photographs of McCoy's daughter as a young girl of maybe 5 or 6, were arranged. "You are renowned for your unfailing instinct, Captain. As a Vulcan, however, I am positive when I say: I don't have an instinct."

Kirk sighed inwardly. He had tricked Bones into sleeping in his bed with Jim beside him, so he could also trick Spock into forgiving himself for making a human decision.

"Well, that is true. What I'm trying to say is this: You are my first officer. And as my first officer it is your duty, to anticipate my wishes and command the ship accordingly when I'm uncapable to do so. I wouldn't have left Bones to die in that prison, as I have tried to explain to you in the past ten minutes or so."

"I assumed as much," Spock said evenly, handing Jim the opportunity he'd waited for on a plate.

"And you assumed correctly. So, you simply did what was your duty as my first officer. Thank you, Spock."

"You are welcome, Captain," Spock said without missing a beat. Then, after a while, he added: "I believe we have an agreement on how to act, … where the doctor's life is concerned."

Kirk's eyes twinkled. "Yes, Spock. And I always assumed we had that agreement, although we never talked about it."

"Indeed. You seem to be right: We _do_ understand each other well."


	3. Chapter 3

As he entered the brig, McCoy's uneasy feeling increased, left his stomach and consumed everything, up to the roots of his hair. Velal's face was flushed in a yellowish-green. Her hair was unruly matted to her forehead, drenched in sweat, and she was breathing hard. Her nostrils flared, her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was slighlty open, and he wouldn't have been surprised had she been foaming at the mouth. She actually did resemble a rabid animal, or a boisterous racehorse chomping at the bit before the final race at the Kentucky Derby. The force field of her prison cell hissed and sparkled at Velal's futile attempt to break through it when he entered.

"STOP THAT!" Osborne shouted, clearly quite nervous himself. This must have been going on for quite some time, McCoy concluded. He mustered a smile trying to diffuse the situation. "Hello, kids!"

"Doctor! I'm glad you're here. She's gone insane. And it's getting worse," he said, speaking into his ear confidentially, and turning him around to get some privacy.

McCoy wasn't all that comfortable having a raging Romulan female behind him, force field or not, but he let it happen. He could sense the young lieutenant was really worried.

"When did it start?" he asked, forcing himself not to flinch and turn around at the sound of the force field hissing again.

"I don't know, I think it gradually built up. I mean, she can't be all that happy to be in this cell, but she didn't start jumping at the energy field until a few hours ago."

McCoy nodded. Velal had been in that cell for about 6 days now. If roles were reversed, he would have a little tantrum in there himself. But this?

"Did she eat anything?" he asked.

"Not since the day before yesterday. She refuses. Actually, she threw her bowl full of soup against the wall this morning, it was quite a hassle to clean that up."

McCoy's thoughts flashed back to one of the most bizarre moments during this five year mission. It involved Spock, a bowl of plomeek soup and his poor head nurse.

_What is it with you pointy-ears and soup? _

"I need to talk to the doctor alone!" the Romulan ground out between clenched teeth, making them turn around. She seemed to have gotten herself under control, her posture rigid, at attention. An almost unnoticeable tremor told them otherwise, though.

"That's not going to happen, you green-blooded …," Osborne sneered, but was stopped by McCoy once again.

"Shut it, Lieutenant!" It bothered him that Osborne called her names. Quite irrational, for he used those same names on Spock quite frequently, he knew, still … that was different.

"Doctor?" Osborne turned, unsure and confused by the reprimand.

"Leave us alone!" he commanded.

"What?" Osborne suddenly stared into icy blue eyes that could freeze over hell.

"I … have the order to not leave her unwatched," he tried.

"And I'm giving you a NEW order!" McCoy said, getting loud. "Ever heard of patient/physician confidentiality?"

"Of course, … but, sir, she's a _Romluan_," Osborne tried, already backing towards the door. Ever since having reported for duty on the Enterprise four years ago, he'd hoped he'd never truly anger Doctor McCoy. He'd heard rumours about the CMO's wrath from the nurses, but had started to suspect they had been only playing with him, then. Now, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"_Lieutenant_ Osborne," McCoy started dangerously, "I hope you're not trying to give me a reason for reporting your xenophobia to Starfleet Command!"

Osborne swallowed, had his own assessment of the good doctor's character deceived him that much? "Yes, Lieutenant Commander," he mumbled, "I'll wait outside."

Still unsure if he was doing the right thing, but too intimidated to question the order again, he stepped outside. There was an energy field between Doctor McCoy and that rabid female Romulan, he reminded himself. Surely, it would hold. Better do what McCoy wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mister Spock," Uhura greeted, as the first officer entered the bridge, "we're picking up a distress signal from an unknown ship."

"Point of origin?" Spock asked, seating himself in the captain's chair and relieving Sulu from his post. He hadn't selpt in over 48 hours, Uhura guessed, and although an outsider wouldn't have detected anything in Spock's appearance that suggested that, she knew him well enough to notice. She could see dark rings under his eyes, some misplaced strands of hair, and the body language of a person who was cold and tired.

"Two point seven, mark five. Exactly one point zero one lightyears away from us," Chekov replied.

"Have you detected a ship in that area before?" Spock asked, accepting the cup of coffee the yeoman offered him. It was a gesture that somewhat alarmed Uhura, Spock never drank coffee.

"No, sir. We came close to that area two hours ago. We detected nothing, although we are constantly scanning. It seems also, we're the only ship able to answer the call."

"Set in a course to meet the origin of the distress call, warp factor 8, Mr Sulu," Spock said, then turned to Uhura. "Do you recognise the signal, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir. It is an automated message that repeats: _To any ship in the vicinity, We are in need of assistance. _Audio only, the voice is computer generated, speaking Standard, Romulan, and Klingonese."

Spock nodded, then turned to the helm again. "Mr Chekov, what do the scanners tell us about the ship?"

"Not much, sir. It is very small, just a little bigger than one of our shuttles, its signature is unknown to our databases."

"Sir, according to our scanners, the ship is perfectly intact and moving at impulse speed, away from us," Sulu reported. For him, all of this smelled of a trap.

"There is nothing in the ship's vicinity that could have caused problems, Mr Spock. Just normal space," Chekov said, in silent agreement with Sulu.

Just a few hours before, early this morning, Uhura had patched through a message from the _Columbia_. They'd found the Trill merchant ship Tamulok had hijacked, drifting many lightyears away from the point of where Uhura had last pinpointed it. It had seemed to be deserted. When they'd pulled it into their hangar for inspection, it had exploded and ripped a hole into the hull. The casualty number so far was somewhere into the 90s, and Captain Lesley had asked for assistance from every ship in the area. The Enterprise had been too far away to answer the call, but they'd all heard the captain's plea for help and seen her shocked features on the screen.

Starfleet Command wanted Velal now more than ever. They were eager to question her, knowing that Tamulok's ship and every hope of finding him soon was gone, and the number of Federation citizens' deaths that went on his account had become triple-digit.

"We don't know the nature of the emergency. According to Starfleet regulations we are obliged to investigate. However, I do intend we be cautious, if that's what you've meant to suggest by your statements," Spock replied, already contemplating on when to inform the captain about their change of course and the incident on the Columbia. Spock himself had kept up with the events through his PADD and had decided that it was unneccessary to wake up the captain and the doctor to notify them about the incident on the _Columbia_.

"Aye, sir," Sulu mumbled under his breath. Of course he had meant to suggest that, although he knew Spock was always cautious. "Course is set in, sir. Our ETA is in one point zero two hours."

o0o

"Looks good, Captain," Dr Taylor said a little self-consciously, after having examined Kirk. It was no thanks to him that his captain was able to follow his instructions so he could test his reflexes and brain functions, he knew that. Dr McCoy had done all the medical magic. It wasn't that he was envious, he was only a bit ashamed.

When he'd seen Spock half carry, half drag a trembling McCoy into sickbay the day before, all hope that the chief surgeon might be able to save the captain had vanished. He'd never seen his boss like that, his uniform grimy and in tatters, his skin grey and clammy underneath. His eyes had looked comprehending and interested one moment, then haunted and lost in a swirling nightmare, the next.

Other than dehydration and exhaustion, he hadn't diagnosed anything physically wrong with him. When McCoy had refused to let go of Spock's hand and arm for long enough to get him out of the remains of his uniform, Taylor had even feared McCoy also might be too far gone to save.

Chapel had taken over then. How she had managed to muster that reassuring smile, he had no idea. But she'd just stated that they'd simply cut the thing off of him then, and had proceeded doing so. She'd kept talking the whole time, about her hair. As a blond, she was often underestimated, but attracted more flirts, she'd informed them, whereas as a brunette, people tended to be less flirtatious, but acting more professional towards her. By the time she'd told her boss that she planned to go to med school again and get a medical degree as a doctor after the end of their five year mission, McCoy had recovered enough to smile back at her shakily, take the offered new shirt and put it on, before reaching for the Vulcan's hand again.

Not knowing what else to do, Taylor had just given McCoy fluids, vitamins, glucose, and a mild sedative that made McCoy slump forward into Spock's shoulder. He'd hoped the CMO would be more stable when he woke up, but seeing him tremble even in his drug induced sleep, he'd honestly doubted that, although Christine had assured him everything was going to be fine. Well, she seemed to have been right. He hadn't seen McCoy today, but didn't doubt Kirk who was sitting somewhat impatiently on the bio-bed before him, that he was fine, just a bit tetchy.

"So, when can I get back on duty, Doc?" Kirk asked, trying to look as happy, rested and healthy as he could.

"I'd say in another two or three days, Captain," Taylor answered, "but I want Dr McCoy to be the judge of that."

Kirk nodded, and started to ask Taylor if he knew where Bones was, when he felt a sudden change in the vibrations and the sound of the engines' constant humming. They'd changed course and had increased their speed, he could tell.

o0o

"Did you sleep in your clothes?" Velal asked McCoy when Osborne had left them alone.

McCoy looked down at his rumpled outfit. He hadn't had the time to change, or take a shower for that matter. "Yes," he admitted and nodded towards Velal, "You?"

"I don't sleep," she whispered, stepping even closer to the force field. Her breath caused the shield to slightly hiss and sparkle where it touched. It was as if she was exhaling electricity.

"Velal," he started, not quite sure how he was going to be able to help, "you wanted to talk to me."

"That was a pretext to get you into the same room with me," she said, still whispering. He could see the droplets of sweat beading the curve above her upper lip. "I need to mate."

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So, it is true. Romulan females get Pon Farr."

She let out a furious scream, and kicked at the violently flashing force field again. "_Pon Farr_! It is a clinical word only passionless, bloodless Vulcans use! They fear it, think it is some kind of disease!"

"How would _you_ describe it?" McCoy asked, and winced slightly, knowing that her nerve endings would soon start protesting painfully because they were being repeatedly subjected to the energy field. Maybe Velal was too far gone to notice, though.

She breathed heavily, then sank down on her knees in front of him. He followed her, until they both sat on the floor.

"It's our nature. We are hot, passionate, even violent in everything we do. And very much so, in love."

He could see his reflection in her eyes, McCoy realized. "But you always seem so self-controlled," he said quietly, suddenly genuinely interested in their conversation.

Her lips curved in a smile. "Practise, Leonard. Even we need to learn how to control our passions, or there'd be chaos."

He nodded thoughtfully. The Romulan Star Empire was a great power in the quadrant. It would be impossible to control such a huge territory if the emperors were rash, unrestrained anarchists.

"The time of our mating cycle reminds us of who we are, of what is important, of how it should be."

She was edging closer again, starting once more to breathe on the force field. The sparks that followed, touched his hair, and he drew back, startled. He hadn't realized he'd edged so close to her.

"I'm not sure, if this is how life should be, Velal," he said, "as far as I can tell, your passion is about to kill you."

"Only, if you won't mate with me," she said, and for a moment there, she was reasoning like a Vulcan again.

McCoy let out a snort. Right. He'd only have to have sex with that green blooded, predatory cat behind the force field, while Osborne was waiting outside.

"Why me?" he asked cooly enough, but in those two words many questions resonated. _Is it just __because I'm a doctor, and as such obliged to do everything I can to not let you die? Did I give you a signal that makes you think I'm interested? Do you find me attractive? Do you think I'm the easiest target? What are your real intentions?_

"I find you attractive, Leonard," she said defiantly. And when he didn't react to that, she went on: "I told you already, I envy your humanity."

Still no reaction.

She screeched through her nose and ran a hand through her hair, pulling at it, leaving it in a wild disarray. Her eyes seemed to have darkened in colour when she ground out through clenched teeth: "Your emotions are so close to the surface, yet, you hide so much more in the depths of your soul. You'd abash any Romulan about the amount of self-control coupled with the intensity of emotion."

McCoy chuckled to himself, and got up from the floor. "Right. You know, Velal, I don't intend to give in to your courting, but maybe there's another way to help you. I'll have to confer with some people." He turned, and started for the door.

Her eyes widened in panic, and she threw herself at the force field. "No!" she screamed at his back. He turned, a little concerned because of the intensity of her reaction. "I've got to tell you something! There's more!"

"What?" He took a step towards her again.

"My bond mate," she started, and McCoy could tell, it took all of her energy to stand still in front of him. She really thought this was important.

"On Romulus?" he coaxed, smiling a little, trying to calm her.

"Tamulok," she hissed. McCoy's eyebrows shot up at that. Tamulok was her bond mate? She thought he was a danger to the Empire and wanted him eliminated. However, no wonder she hadn't been able to simply shoot him herself when she'd had the chance.

"What about him?" he asked.

"He'll sense me. And he'll find me."

McCoy smiled. "Good. That'll save _us_ the hassle of trying to find _him_."

"You've got no idea," she moaned, and hugged herself doubling over, as if in pain.

"You alright?" he asked, concerned, bending his knees to try to catch her eyes.

"NO!" she shouted at him. And he mentally kicked himself for asking such a stupid question.

"Maybe there's something I can give you, to calm you a little," he said, straightening

"Yes!" she met his eyes, hopefully.

"Well, I mean, other than …," he bit the inside of his lip, "What about … some music? It could prove to have a calming effect."

"There's no use!" she protested, starting to pace.

McCoy programmed the computer to play some classical music anyway. If it didn't calm her, then at least it would calm Osborne.

He also dimmed the lights. "Are you creating a romantic atmosphere?" Velal asked sweetly, when his eyes found hers one last time.

He smiled at her joke. "Don't taunt Osborne. I'll be back!" he turned again to leave.

"Wait!" she said, more controlled than before.

"What is it now?" he asked, just a little unnerved.

"That music! It's beautiful."

McCoy shook his head. She was trying to seduce him, he could tell. "It's Mozart," he said, shrugging, not quite sure what he was still doing here.

"Yes. The 40th symphony in G-minor," she nodded, stepping close to the force field again.

He felt his mental barriers completely drop for just the fraction of a second as he was reminded of Gemma and that night on his parents' front porch, for the second time today. What if he'd come together with her then? His life could have taken a whole different direction.

He saw Velal, who was standing behind the invisible force field, a gentle smile curving her lips, when suddenly the room went completely dark, Mozart's symphony abruptly stopped playing, and that invisible force field disappeared with an electric thrum.

He started to feel cold, as his mind provided him with an explanation: _Total power failure_. If the force fields in the brig had lost power, it was most likely that life support had also. And that meant they'd soon run out of air, or freeze to death.

Then, a hot hand on the side of his face made him sweat.


	5. Chapter 5

Kirk jumped off the bio-bed and strode towards the intercom. He knew he was on sick leave, but he was also the captain of this ship, and he needed to know _why_ they'd changed course and to _where the hell _they were going _now_! As a captain, he needed to know these things! He felt anger form in his gut, anger at his first officer, and he took a deep breath to quench it. It's not that he didn't trust Spock, just …

He reached out a finger to press the button of the intercom, when the room went completely dark around him. Talyor let out a surprised yelp, and Chapel also expressed her surprise with a whispered: "What the …?"

He pressed the button, but knew even before he spoke: "Captain Kirk to bridge," into the speaker on the wall, that the comm system was dead. He tried anyway, several times, but there was only silence in reply.

Kirk began to understand the idiom _deafening silence _as he strained to hear the constant humming of the engines, or the steady hiss of the ventilation system. Nothing. He turned around, trying to make out the contours of sickbay's inventory, but found it was absolutely dark, no light, whatsoever. Reaching out to feel any obstacle within his path he slowly, carefully walked to where he remembered sickbay's doors. _Deafening silence and b__linding darkness, _his mind provided, while he felt his way. It's what he was right now: Deaf and blind. The ship had apparently lost power, even the emergency lighting didn't work. Life support was also down, except for artificial gravity. And they were drifting. Drifting somewhere _off course_, too, and he had _no idea_ why. He was literally and in every sense of the word _in the dark_.

"What happened?" Taylor asked, still from his position near the bio-beds.

"I know as much as you do, Doc," Kirk said, barely able to keep his irritation from his voice. He'd finally reached the doors and of course they were shut fast. They'd need something like a crowbar to get them open. And then? The only people who might know what had happened to his ship were probably on the bridge, or maybe the engine room. Both were many decks away, and to get to either place would require climbing a lot of ladder spokes in a narrow tube. That would take time. Time they might not have. Did he really have a choice, though? "Where are your med kits, and mission equipment packs?" he asked, turning to where he suspected Chapel and Taylor.

The pack the medical personnel carried on away missions included several instruments which could be useful to them. A flashlight, for example. But what he wanted most at the moment, was a communicator.

"In the storage room," Chapel sighed. The room was well organized, easily reachable from any place in sickbay. If there was an emergency you didn't have to search for long to get the item you wanted. However, it had a door. A door that was now closed.

"There's also one in McCoy's office," Taylor said.

"Which has a door, also!" Kirk finished Taylor's sentence.

"McCoy was called to make a visit to the Romulan woman in the brig," Chapel said, and Kirk heard she was moving around, "I think he may have left the door open when he left."

"He has disabled the automatic closing mechanism, because … well, he just has," Taylor explained.

"What?" Kirk asked, a little worried. Why had Bones been called to the brig? And what did the power failure mean for the people on the other side of the force field that was holding the prisoner inside the cell? There should be an armed security guard in there, too, so even if the force field had failed … . Then again, Velal may have planned this, and all this time she may have been waiting for an opportunity to escape. But why would she have wanted McCoy in there with her?

"Well, when the door's closed we know he doesn't want to be disturbed, when it's open, we know it's safe to go in," Chapel said, chuckling a bit.

"And when he isn't there at all?" Kirk asked, smiling at his friend's peculiarities. There were still some that he didn't know about.

"Open!" Chapel shouted triumphantly already from within the small room. There was a noise as she stumbled over the chair, then a series of louder thuds and clanks as something, or rather a lot of things, fell on the floor.

Kirk blindly followed the noise and the following soft cursing of the head nurse, until he reached the entrance to Bones' office.

"Nurse?" he asked quietly, unsure about where to step. He didn't want to kick Christine in the head, in case she was crawling on the floor, trying to retrieve the things she'd just thrown off the desk.

Instead of an answer, the light cone of a flashlight greeted him, illuminating the clutter strewn all over the floor of the CMO's office.

"He's going to kill me," Chapel whispered unhappily.

Kirk stepped around the mess on the floor and grabbed the nurse's arm as she already stooped down to clean up.

"It's his fault. He shouldn't have left the pack open on his desk. Christine, I need a communicator. Did you find one?"

She straightened, half turning towards her captain, but then shining the light around on the floor. "This is the content of a med kit used on away missions. The communicator must have ..."

"Got it!" Kirk spotted it and bent over to retrieve it from the floor. "Thanks! Don't worry about the mess! Give Bones something to do when he reappears! We could use another flashlight, though! And something to pry open the doors!"

She nodded, and started to rummage around in the desk drawers.

"Kirk to bridge," he spoke into the communicator, hoping everyone on the bridge was safe and uninjured. He hadn't felt any blows or blasts that had rocked the ship, so there probably hadn't been any explosions, no damage to the hull. However, something abnormal, unpredictable must have occurred.

There was no answer. "Maybe they don't have a communicator with them, sir," Taylor who had finally found his way to McCoy's office as well stated.

"Well, there are some stored up there. But they're locked inside ..." Kirk started, but was interrupted.

"Scott to _anyone_!" the engineer's voice sounded exasperated.

"This is the captain," Kirk answered, a bit irritated that he had to answer to a call that was addressed to _anyone._ "What happened, Scotty?"

"Captain! It's good to hear you. I wish I knew. We're experiencing an almost total power failure. Luckily, the containment field around the reaction chamber is still functioning, as is artificial gravity, the rest … gone ... from one moment to the next."

"A malfunction?" Kirk speculated, and hoped it was. At least that would mean that it wasn't an attacker, or a trap, or an anomaly that could do further damage to the ship. At the moment they were without shields, weapons and engines, not a good position to be in when at someone's or something's mercy.

"Definitely not, sir," Scotty sounded offended, "all systems were functioning fine."

"They're definitely not functioning fine _now_, Scotty. When can you get everything online again?" Kirk didn't have time to be considerate of his chief engineer's pride right now. Scotty didn't seem to mind, though.

"Right now, our top priority are the life support systems. They should be up and running in a few minutes, sir. I planned to deal with the comm system after that, and then ..."

"No!" Kirk cut in quickly. "No, Scotty, we need the scanners fast, we must know what brought us into this situation. Also, our shields, weapons, and at least the impulse drive must be functional as soon as possible."

"Captain, we can't work on everything at the same time! I'm an engineer, not a magician!"

"Ah?" Kirk smiled, although Scotty couldn't see it. He knew his chief engineer was easily motivated by a little schmoozing. "Sorry, I sometimes forget. You've sure done magic to those engines before! But I guess, _this_ is a more dire situation than before."

Scotty sighed. "Captain, I hope to have the scanners, shields, weapons and impulse engine online within the hour, but I can't promise anything."

"Just do your best Scotty. So far, that's always been enough. I hate drifting helplessly in space, it could be interpreted as an invitation to all sorts of felons!"

"Aye, we're on it …, now, sir."

The engineer said, and even before he'd stopped talking, Kirk heard the swoosh of the ventilation system coming to life. The sound was unusually loud, or it just seemed to be, in this nearly total darkness. _Now, at least, we won't suffocate_, he thought to himself. Aloud he said: "Good. I'll try to reach the bridge. Kirk out," and with that he pocketed his communicator.

"The bridge, Captain?" Chapel was standing next to him, handing him a pair of old-fashioned metal scissors, then shining at the door so Kirk could work on getting them open.

He took the scissors and tried to work them between the doors to apply a lever to pry open the door leading to the corridor. "Yes. Jeffries tube 21C should get me there."

Doctor Taylor sighed from somewhere in the background. Only Chapel was bold enough to actually comment: "Captain, crawling and climbing through the Jeffries tubes is strenuous to anyone. But in your condition ..."

"Thank you, Nurse Chapel, I'm aware of the risks, but I must know what's going on with my ship," he cut her off impatiently.

Chapel took a breath to steady herself. Then she went on: "With all due respect, sir, I don't think you _are_ aware of the risks. If you strain yourself, your blood pressure will go up which will make you bleed inside your brain again. If that doesn't kill you right away, you're likely to fall off a ladder and break your neck. Then we'll be stranded with no power _and_ no captain. But that won't be _your_ problem then, will it?"

Kirk stopped fiddling with the scissors and turned to face Bones' head nurse.

"You've been taking lessons from Dr McCoy?" he asked, smiling arrogantly at her. He hoped to abash her, make her forget about his risky intentions, but without success - she probably couldn't see him properly.

Her face mirrored what he imagined to be his own expression as she gave him a superior smile: "Captain, after having made that disarray in Dr McCoy's office, I don't want to anger him further by letting you take that obstacle course through the Jeffries tubes. I for one, am very fond of my life, you know?"

He decided to put off the decision. "Well, Nurse, we'll see. First, we need to get these doors open. I'm sure people were injured when the power went out. Sickbay must be accessible to them."


	6. Chapter 6

"He's here," Velal whispered into McCoy's ear. There was no need to whisper, though, since they were alone in the room. Security officer Osborne was waiting in the corridor, behind the closed door which would prove difficult to open. Without power these doors were like a clam fiercly protecting its pearl, to get them to open manually, a crowbar and lots of muscle was needed. This was a door to the brig, which meant it probably had all sorts of well-thought-out safety mechanisms, too.

Velal pressed herself to McCoy's side, so close that he could feel the burning heat of her feverish body seep through his clothes and into his own skin. Her racing heart thumped a staccato against his elbow and he could feel every muscle within him tense, every hair on his arms and neck stand up. His breath flattened out. He estimated the Romulan, burning with that ancient need that was an inherited trait of her race, was about ten times stronger than himself. Her reflexes, though maybe not as alert as they were when she was her normal self, were no match for him either. So, what was there to do?

"Who is?" he asked smoothly, maybe he could calm her down a little?

"My bond mate. He must be the reason for this!" she said and her lips were touching his ear as she spoke.

He turned just a bit. Of course he couldn't see her face in the total darkness, but he'd _heard_ a touch of fear in her voice.

"Does that worry you?"

"He thinks he's omnipotent. He'll claim me."

"But he _is_ your bond mate, isn't he?" McCoy asked further.

"That doesn't give him the right to possess me. He's mad. He'll destroy your ship when he's found me." Her hands were seeking out his own and then started to awkwardly play with his fingers, touching and stroking.

McCoy suddenly remembered seeing Amanda and Sarek, Spock's parents, touching the tips of their fingers in a peculiar gesture, one that had been similar to this, if, admittedly, a bit more "civil".

_For Vulcans and Romulans the hands are used to show intimacy. Maybe they're even an erogenous zone?_ he asked himself. He was a bit alarmed when he realized he actually liked Velal's touches, even though they probably did not have the same meaning for him as they did for her. He found them quite soothing, actually. They stood there for a while, silent. The air was becoming dense.

Were they running out of oxygen already?

"He'll try to destroy the Enterprise?" McCoy asked, shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. These touches were mesmerizing! He tried to concentrate on something else, anything, _but_ the touch of her fingers on his. "He's on his own. Surely, he can't take on a whole starship, can he?"

She laughed quietly, deep in her throat. "He's a Tal Shiar agent."

"Oh, come on!" he snorted, thinking about unrealistic and exaggerated stories about secret agents and spies. Jocelyn had loved them, and he'd been forced to watch quite a few of those silly 007 movies. He drifted off into his past for what felt like the thousandth time today. His ex wife had been fascinated by James Bond, that rediculously smarmy Brit, always acting in the name of Her Majesty, the Queen of England. That strong, cultivated, permanently well-dressed, and sexually irrisitible walking stereotype was as similar to himself, as Spock was to Moneypenny. No wonder their marriage had ended in a catastrophy. He should have seen it coming. Jocelyn had wanted a man at her side that her friends envied her for, a status symbol, not a real person.

Velal tenderly bit his earlobe. Now, that didn't seem like Romulan / Vulcan foreplay. It was what a human would do. _She is trying a new strategy, _he observed_._ He waited for a few breaths, undecided about how to react.

With a loud hiss, the ventilation system came to life again, McCoy drew in a relieved breath, then he withrew from her, grasping her shoulders, pushing her away. "We should try to get out of here, then. If what you say is true, Tamulok probably is after you."

"Yes," she said simply. Again, there was a moment of silence before her hands reclaimed his hands that still rested on her shoulders.

He sighed, silently counting to ten, as her fingers resumed their mesmerizing touches. "You're a Tal Shiar agent, as well, Velal," he whispered gently.

"Yes," she repeated, stroking both his index fingers. McCoy began to ask himself what the equivalent to this gesture was in human interaction between a man and a woman. As he pictured the answer, it suddenly didn't feel so soothing anymore.

"Well, then, it should be easy to get us out of here!" he said a little louder than necessary.

"I don't want to get out of here," she purred. Two of her fingers touched his temple, and for a second he felt panic threaten to consume him. She wouldn't try a meld, would she?

She didn't. It was just a touch, interested, caressing, even loving as it traced down the side of his face, touched his lip, tracing the curve under his nose.

"Oh, cut the crap!" he grumbled, and batted the tantalizing fingers away.

She withdrew with a low growl, and for a moment he admired his own boldness or stupidity. He was sure she could break his neck with just two of her fingers.

"I like you. You are so real," she said possessively, through clenched teeth. Her hands now closed around his wrists pulling him towards herself by his forearms. "I'm fed up with lies, intrigues, disguises, and false identities. You are what you are, nothing more and nothing less," she declared.

It flattered him, for some reason, and he felt annoyed with himself as he realized it. "I'm human," he said, and meant it as an explanation for her, as well as for himself, maybe even an excuse for what was about to follow. He'd been with people who were less interesting, less attractive, even less considerate than this Romulan. He wasn't particularly proud of those experiences, but they'd been only human.

"That's what makes you so irrisitible," she said, and he could hear in her voice, that she was smiling, even though one of her hands was now creeping up his arm, shoulder and neck, until her fingers were clawing into his hair.

Nonetheless, she'd calmed considerably, compared to the state she'd been in when he'd first arrived in the brig, he noticed. How far into that mating ritual _were_ they actually?

A noise was coming from the doors, rattling, rapping. Someone was trying to get them open. A good sign? Were they being rescued? Or was Tamulok on the other side of the door?

He grabbed blindly at the air in front of him, finding Velal, pulling her protectively to himself, and then dragging her to the wall to which they flattened themselves against. There was a weak sheen of light coming from the direction of the noise, as the door was pried open.

"Doctor McCoy?" Osborne shouted, out of breath. He was worried. When the lights and everything else had gone out, all he could think of had been that rabid Romulan escaping her cell. McCoy had been unarmed. He'd probably had a hypo with a strong sedative somewhere, and the doctor was famous for using his hypos with a healthy amount of pragmatism, but being totally blind, wouldn't have helped him. He'd called for Collins and O'Shea and they'd worked on prying the doors open, immediately. Now, that they'd succeeded, he used the light of a PADD to search for McCoy, or the Romulan. Behind him, his two colleagues waited, with drawn phasers.

"Yes, yes, yes," McCoy found himself trying to soothe the security officer once again. He held his hands in front of him as he walked away from the wall towards the now open door, as if Osborne had reason to feel threatened by him. He kept Velal close behind him, shielding her from the redshirts.

"Are, you … uh," Osborne was clearly confused by the CMO's behaviour, "Are you okay?"

He backed away, as McCoy and Velal approached them.

"We're … fine," he said and felt Velal suddenly press down very hard on his hand.

"Tamulok, he's close!" she said quietly, but loud enough, for Osborne to hear it too.

"Where?" the lieutenant asked, alarmed. If anyone wanted to enter the Enterprise, a total power failure was of course an ideal situation to do that.

Velal pointed towards her right, and Collins and O'Shea immediately turned into that direction. Osborne gave the doctor a quick once over. He seemed alright, and intend on protecting Velal. Maybe he'd been wrong about her. She certainly did not seem to be threatening now. What had McCoy done?

A noise came from the direction of where Velal had pointed, O'Shea shouted, then a phaser was fired and Osborne pressed himself to the wall of the corridor, setting his own phaser.

"Go!" he hissed, meaning McCoy and Velal. But when he turned again, he saw the doctor and his companion weren't there anymore. _Good_, he thought, _now I can concentrate on the intruders._

He heard the hiss of the disruptor before he felt the agonizing pain.


	7. Chapter 7

"More light, Lieutenant," Spock urged Uhura who was cramped in next to him under the communications console, holding a PADD in one hand, and a hyperspanner in the other. She sighed and shifted the PADD so that the miserable light of its display fell onto Spock's hands from a slightly different angle. She wanted to be more useful than this, and under normal circumstances she could have done what Spock was attempting to do. She was absolutely capable of connecting the energy cell of a phaser to the comm system in order to get it to working again, but she was _not_ capable of doing that blindly. At least not as swiftly as Spock wanted her to. He could see much better in this grey, nearly non-existent light. Anyway, it was a fiddly task, even with enough light.

"Got it?" she asked, realizing the same moment that it was a superfluous question to ask.

"If by that you meant to inquire if I now have got enough light to fulfill my task efficiently, I must say: No. However, the circumstances dictate that it _has_ to be sufficient, since we do not have another light source at our disposal," Spock answered, as calm as ever, though Uhura suspected the unnecessary length of his answer indicated that he, too, was annoyed with the whole situation.

She found herself pulling a face at the back of Spock's head, but managed to keep the groan from escaping her mouth.

"It _is_ a trap," Chekov commented their situation from somewhere beside Sulu. The power failure had surprised them all, every single system on the Enterprise, except for artificial gravity, had died from one moment to the next, without any apparent reason. Although their situation should be quite alarming, they were drifting helplessly in space, with no lifesupport, or shields, Sulu was more puzzled than worried. There hadn't been anything unusual on the scanners.

"But by whom?" he asked Chekov whom he could hear slowly turning his seat. Left. Right. Left again. He seemed to be bored, Sulu realised, and found that funny. Chekov was bored while sitting at the helm of Starfleet's flagship during a crisis.

"Commander Tamulok. That's not so hard to figure out, is it?" Chekov answered, now facing Sulu's right ear.

"From which facts did you deduce your theory, Mr Chekov?" Spock's voice intervened from under the console.

Sulu smiled. Spock often took up the role of Chekov's mentor, trying to show his young, sometimes overhasty protégé the inconsistencies in his thinking, by making him reflect on his assumptions, giving him the chance to revise them.

Chekov, of course, had no facts. Spock knew that, Sulu knew that, Uhura knew it, Lewis and Daniels who were working on getting the emergency storage compartment open to get to the emergency equipment in it knew it, and so did Chekov. Still, everyone, except maybe for Spock, believed Chekov was right. Call it human instinct. And although Spock denied having a human instinct, Sulu wasn't completely sure that Spock didn't secretly share Chakov's rash and illogical theory, as well.

"A gut feeling," Chekov answered neutrally, already accepting the fact that he had once again _not_ impressed his Vulcan CO with deductive reasoning.

There was a lengthy pause in which everyone waited for Spock's razor-sharp wit to give a reply that would slightly embarrass Chekov and everybody, who had been inlcined to agree with him, but it didn't come.

_Now, _that's_ disconcerting_, Sulu thought, and now turned his own seat into the direction of Lewis and Daniels who were making frustrated noises.

"It's impossible!" one of them said.

"This is stupid!" the other agreed. "What did the designers think is the purpose of an emergency storage compartment?" He kicked at it again in frustration. "To lock in any useful equipment during an emergency?"

"Gentlemen, if you want to make a suggestion to Starfleet Engineering about the design of the storage compartment for emergency equipment on the bridge of Constitution Class ships, you may do so, _after_ this crisis has passed," Spock, still submerged under the console, cut in calmly, but decisively. "I will sign it, also," he added, as an afterthought.

Uhura frowned and handed Spock the hyperspanner. Spock never had _afterthoughts. _And although she heard someone chuckle at the comment which lightened the mood a bit, she still sensed a tenseness among her crewmembers, a tenseness that was understandable of course, considering the circumstances. Still, the exhaustion from the past weeks was still hanging in the air and getting to them all. It was also affecting Spock, she thought, and wondered if she was the only one present who noticed it.

_Probably. Being the only female here, as usual, I'm the only one who can sense this whole "invisible-to-male-eyes" dimension. _She sighed. It was a stereotype, she knew, but it was also a fact, that over the last five years she had found that most men tended to be completely oblivious to the fine (and sometimes not so fine) emotional vibes coming from the others around them, if not, they at least completely ignored them. Men were often so … dense. Or indifferent. Social analphabets.

She shook her head. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Captain Kirk's ability to motivate people, to assess their intentions, even to deceive and manipulate them according to his own needs was somewhat legendary. Then again, he was oblivious to the flirtatious looks and the ridiculously provocative eye batting of _all_ of his female (and some male) yeomen. Poor man, he had _no idea_!

Spock, being a good observer, could probably _sense_, idiosyncratic behaviour, but he had no idea how to _interpret _it, or he believed it to be a merely unimportant minor disturbance that was normal where humans were involved, and dismissed it.

McCoy was an expert on psychology, but that didn't necessarily mean, he'd _do_ anything to lighten up a tense or awkward amtosphere. Uhura had seen him closely observing Yeoman Mears' behaviour for example, even when she'd deliberately let her PADD fall into the captain's lap. It had just amused him and he hadn't commented at all. He'd even encouraged her by innocently asking her in front of the captain, if she had changed her hairstyle. He was also famous for finding every single sore spot to poke in his finger where Kirk, and certainly where Spock was concerned. That man had is own secret, and slightly vicious way of entertaining himself.

Her female instinct helped her not only to identify precarious situations, but whenever she sensed them, she immediately wanted to smooth out any tension or embarrassment. Maybe it had something to do with being a communications officer, rather than with being a woman.

She quietly cleared her throat. "This reminds me of a course I took at the Academy, _Operating principles of the universal translator. _The instructor was a Vulcan linguist who never spoke Earth Standard, only Vulcan."

"T'Len," Spock provided.

"Right. You know her?" Uhura asked, but wasn't really surprised. There were not many Vulcan lecturers at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. Most Vulcan scientists chose to work and teach at the Vulcan Science Academy. But T'Len, being a xenolinguist, found an environment where many foreign languages were spoken much more inspiring, as she had told her students at one time. Why she had refused to ever _speak_ any of the many language she supposedly had mastered, was a mystery, though. She probably would have taken every chance to meet any _Vulcan,_ who made it to the Academy, and that, of course, included their first officer.

"She is an acquaintance," Spock said, without turning, or stopping in what he was doing.

"Oh. Well, usually, the language wasn't a problem, since we all had our universal translators with us," Uhura continued, "But one day, she set up a disturbing signal that rendered all our translators inoperative. And suddenly we couldn't understand anything she said, at all," she continued.

"But you speak Vulcan," Chekov interjected, now interested. Even though he was convinced this whole power failure was a trap, there was nothing they could do at the moment, so why not pass the time with a bit of socialising?

"I didn't _then_. At least not much more than the 50 words or so you learn at highschool," she said, remembering. "Anyway, we complained of course, and T'Len said something in Vulcan that together we translated as: _If you can't understand the language of your instructor, use your universal translator._"

"Great."

"Right. So we said: _It's broken. _And we had no idea _what_ was wrong with it, or _how_ to fix it. But she just answered: _Repair it! _And we asked:_ How?"_

"And she said: _Ask your instructor!_" Sulu finished for her, smiling.

"That's right," Uhura laughed. "That day I became convinced that it was necessary to actually _learn_ languages, and not rely on the universal translator."

"Great! So we should leave communicators, crowbars, blankets, flashlights, nutrition packs, water and oxygen masks lying around on the bridge, instead of relying on ..." Daniels started to rant, but was interrupted by the ventilation system coming to life again.

"Okay, at least now we know that someone is still alive down there!" Sulu said, cheerily.

"And we won't suffocate," Chekov agreed.

Just seconds later the comm system also sprang to life with a familiar chirpy sound, and Uhura started to hug Spock when he turned around to crawl out from under the console. Luckily, they were cramped in so narrowly that Spock must have interpreted her move as an attempt to get out from under there, or he simply chose not to comment yet another human idiosyncracy.


	8. Chapter 8

Here goes, sorry for the long wait. Still not the end, but it's getting there.

Reference to "Catspaw"

o0o

"Spock to Captain Kirk." His first officer's voice suddenly came over the intercom, as Kirk guided Crewmen Langerman to sickbay's entrance with his flashlight. They'd found only a few people in the corridor, who then started a sort of search and rescue party, helping to open the doors to the various rooms and a few mildly injured people had been brought in, to who Chapel and Taylor were tending to at the moment.

Kirk hadn't given up the plan to reach the bridge over Jeffries tube 21C, and had ventured a bit towards its hatch, trying to determine what (or who) to take with him. Chapel had a point though, Kirk knew it, he could feel it, the headache that had formed, in the past 15 minutes or so, was getting worse, dulling his usually strong determination.

However, when the Vulcan's voice sounded over the intercom, the dark cloud of pain was suddenly lifted from him. First of all it meant that the bridge was still relatively intact, and at least Spock, if not all of the bridge crew, were alive and well.

Second it meant, that the intercom was working again, and although he'd told Scotty to work on repairing other systems first, he knew the ship's communications system was vital in a crisis like this. During the last five years Kirk had built up a reputation as Starfleet's, boldest, smartest and most cunning captain, but Kirk had always known that a captain was dependent on his crew, their loyalty, their courage and their skills, to execute his orders. So, without being able to communicate with his crew, Kirk was nothing more than a man with a strong will, but no arms or hands.

Finally, Kirk felt a relief in him that had nothing to do with the ships's status or his worry for the lives of his crew. Even as he reached for the comm button to answer Spock's call, he identified the feeling and immediately stacked it away, as he realized what it was. He had felt jealous of Spock because he was in command of his ship. Spock had ordered a change in course and speed, without finding it necessary to even notify him about that. And rightfully so, for he was on sickleave, had been in a _coma_ only _a day_ ago, but still, instead of feeling thankful to Spock for taking care of business, he'd felt jealous and left out. So when Spock addressed him first after repairing the intercom, he felt included in the game again. He knew for a fact that Spock did not strive towards his command, respected him as captain and commanding officer always, and without question, but Kirk's own possessiveness towards the command chair sometimes made him forget that. He wondered if Spock had sensed it, or why would he have sought the captain first who was being examined in sickbay when the power went out, and not someone else, who was on duty and of more use to get the ship back under control right now?

"Spock! What's going on up there?" he asked him, already completely focussing on the task.

"The bridge is undamaged, except that all systems have gone offline. Currently we have no knowledge about what caused the power failure, Lieutenant Uhura and I were able to activate the intercom with the help of a phaser's energy cell."

"Scotty is trying to get the scanners, shields and impulse drive online again. Spock, why did we change course?"

"We were attempting to reach a small unknown vessel sending out an automated distress signal."

Kirk pressed his lips together. _It was a trap!_ Of course, it could also be, that whatever had brought that small ship into distress, was also causing the Enterprise's problems right now. Then he dismissed the thought for a moment, _we'll find out sooner or later_.

"Lieutenant Uhura, put me through shipwide," he said, knowing she could hear him. He needed to act and bring some control and order back on his ship. Reassure his crew.

"Aye sir, you may talk now," Uhura said, and Kirk could hear the signal from the speakers in the walls that preceded a shipwide announcement.

"To all hands, this is Captain Kirk. We are experiencing a partial power failure. Stay at your posts and remain calm. The problem will be cleared in a few minutes. Armed security teams are patrolling. I repeat: We are experiencing a momentary partial power failure. Stay where you are, and remain calm. Kirk out."

Another signal indicated the shipwide communication had been cut.

"Captain, you think we have intruders on board?" Spock's voice asked calmly.

Kirk smiled. Spock, of course would not only have immediately noticed Kirk's stretchings of the truth, the power failure was far more than _partial_ or _momentary_, and there were no armed security teams patrolling anywhere, but he would have also deduced why Kirk chose to use them.

"I hope I'm wrong," he said. "We need internal scanners, and contact security!"

"I've tried, captain," Uhura chimed in again, she was probably talking and listening to dozens of people at the same time right now, Kirk imagined, "no one answers on deck 8."

"Security and - the brig," Kirk thought aloud. If they had intruders on board, deck 8 should be the safest place on the ship. At least almost everyone there was armed. But right now they were also probably blind, … . An uneasy feeling spread in his stomach. McCoy had been called to the brig, and was probably there too, right now.

"Captain, I believe we should consider the possibility that Commander Tamulok might be behind all this."

_Tamulok? Hadn't he excaped to Romulan Territory?_ "What evidence do you have for that?" Kirk demanded, becoming even more uneasy, but also furious at that Romulan's audacity.

"None, Captain. However, this morning Tamulok's ship was found in Federation territory, it caused great damage to the _Columbia, _which called many Federation starships to come to her aid. Tamulok was not found. We do not know where he is at the moment. However, if he decided to free Velal, now would be an ideal moment."

_Free Velal?_ Kirk thought. The last time he'd seen the Romulan Commander, he'd threatened to kill his Romulan friend. Tamulok knew Velal had betrayed him, but of course that didn't mean he wouldn't want to free her, if only to make a point, to take revenge on her. That man was truely mad.

"Captain, security officer O'Shea for you," Uhura announced.

"Kirk here," he pictured the sturdy redhead that was one of his security officers before him. A walking brick wall, he was.

"Sir, I'm … deck eight, Intruders … Romulan ... disruptor."

Kirk could hear he was in great pain, gasping, bearly able to get out the words. His heartbeat quickened, so there _were_ Romulans on board!

"O'Shea, listen to me. How many of them are there and where are they headed?"

"They … came out of … the dark. Couldn't see. Killed, … Osborne and Collins, I c-couldn't ..."

Kirk punched the wall in frustration. O'Shea was badly injured, suffering from a disruptor wound, which were always agonizing. He needed medical help, and soon, still, Kirk needed to know …

"Ensign O'Shea!" he bellowed, "Listen to me! Where are they _now_?"

"I don't … they … went after the … doctor." he whispered in between harsh breaths.

"And that's _where_?" Kirk pressed, so McCoy _had_ been there, but where was he now?

A hollow thud ended the report, O'Shea had probably dropped to the ground. Kirk couldn't raise him again.

"Captain, if one wants to escape intruders on deck 8 during a power failure, the logical route to take is through Jeffries tube 8," Spock provided from over the intercom.

"The _logical_ route, Spock?" Kirk echoed, trying to get the Vulcan to find the snag in his assumption. McCoy wasn't always the most _logical_ guy, as Spock was usually so fond of pointing out.

"I should rephrase that, Captain," Spock acknowledged, "it is the only possible route. Nonethelss, it also opens the possibility to trap the Romulan intruders, that is – if one is aware of the layout of Jeffries tube 8!"

Kirk nodded. Jeffries tube 8 was epecially long and unsually winded. Eventually it lead up to cargobay 1 on deck 7, but it also connected to cargobay 2 which was on deck 9. It was possible to transfer goods from one cargobay to the other via the last part of the Jeffries tube which was steeply sloped at its end. At the foot of the slope there was an opening. A rather sudden opening if you didn't expect it and if you fell through, you'd fall several meters. It could make an ideal trap for Bones' pursuers, however, Kirk wasn't sure if Bones knew anything about it.

"Captain, our internal sensors are online again," Spock's voice interrupted his train of thoughts, "it appears Doctor McCoy and Velal are about 28 meters ahead of the 3 intruders, who are heavily armed."

Kirk bit the inside of his lip, "Do you suppose Bones knows about the opening in the ground ahead of him?"

"He's 15.3 meters away, Captain. Considering the pace at which he and Velal are currently going, I don't believe they are aware of the chute."

Kirk closed his eyes. "We've gotta warn him then."

"Captain, any warning we could give Dr McCoy would also warn Commander Tamulok."

Kirk nodded, but said: "Maybe not. We've gotta phrase it so that only Bones understands."

o0o

McCoy had been crawling on his hands and knees for only a few minutes now, but he hurt all over already. However, the prospect of being hit by a disruptor promised even more pain, much more actually, so he just kept on going as fast as he could. When he'd heard the sounds of the phasers and disruptors, as well as the agonized moans coming from at least two of the security officers in the corridor, his first instinct had been to turn around.

Disruptor wounds were nasty, if they didn't kill you right away, they caused enormous pain, and McCoy believed they'd been even designed for that purpose. He shuddered. Romulan (and Klingon) mentality in that way was so far from what was considered to be _human._ "Are human phasers not designed to kill, doctor?" Spock had once asked him, to remind him that every weapon, no matter who the designer was, ultimately had only one prupose, still, to be killed by a disruptor, was a hell of a way to die.

Velal had dragged him away from the hatch and into the Jeffries tube. "We must flee!" she'd whispered in his ear, and of course she was right. He didn't know how many Romulans were out there, but even if there was only Tamulok, which he doubted, then it was Tamulok with a disruptor, and they were completely unarmed. So they needed to flee. A few minutes later, they heard the hatch being opened again and people crawling inside.

Velal who was close in front of him, and was becoming more agitated again, with each passing second, had confirmed McCoy's worries: "Tamulok, he's following us."

McCoy cursed himself for not having studied Enterprise's Jeffries tube system more elaborately. If Jim were in his place, he'd not only know where he was going, but also how to set up a trap for that Romulan that was following them.

Suddenly, he heard Jim's voice over the intercom, making a shipwide announcement.

"... _Stay where you are, and remain calm. Kirk out._"

_Funny, Jim,_ he thought sarcastically, feeling Velal's gastrocnemius muscle under his hand tremble uncontrollably. Her pants were soaked with sweat. He was certainly not calm and relaxed himself, but the state Velal was in was ridiculous. Also, he could hear the grunts and panting of the Romulans following them from behind.

Tamulok hollered after them, something in Romulan, which made Velal scream and kick behind her, almost hitting McCoy in the face.

"Hey!" he hissed at her and pushed her further into the tube, "use your energy to move a little faster, instead of trying to knock me out!"

She muttered something back that McCoy couldn't understand, and although it didn't exactly sound like an apology, she concentrated on quickening her pace, for which McCoy was grateful. They'd been crawling straight ahead for some time now, and he just hoped, Tamulok would not round the corner about now and shoot his disruptor down the tunnel.

McCoy considered briefly stopping at the intercom to contact Jim, but the prospect of being hit by same disruptor let him move on.

It seemed though, he didn't need to stop to communicate with Jim, for suddenly the captain's voice came over the speakers again, in another shipwide announcement:

"To all hands in the Pyris Seven section: access deck 9 through the Jeffries tubes! The dust and cobwebs make it right!"

McCoy blinked, what was _that_ supposed to mean?

Pyris Seven was the name of a planet they'd visited about 3 years ago. Spock, Kirk, and he had encountered three witches warning them to turn around and leave. Spock had commented on their bad poetry, and they'd all been quite puzzled about the earth manifestations of Halloween decoration, complete with a black cat and an old castle. As they'd proceded along the hall of the castle, McCoy had also commented on the dust and cobwebs, before they'd all …

"Stop!" he hissed at Velal, grabbing hold of her calf fast.

"What?" she ground out.

"There's a hole somewhere ahead of us!"

o0o

Spock kept one eye on the internal scanners that showed the progress of Doctor McCoy, Velal and the three intruders within Jeffries tube 8. One of the intruders was most likely a Romulan, the other two were probably of a different species. McCoy and Velal had picked up their pace, and now quickly approached the abyss.

As he heard the captain's shipwide announcement, he immediately understood the underlying warning, 2 point 7 years ago, McCoy, Kirk and he himself had fallen through a hole in the ground in that castle on Pyris Seven, just after McCoy had commented: _Dust, cobwebs, Halloween is right_. The question was: Would the doctor also make the connection in time?

"They've stopped," Chekov, also reading the internal scanners from his post, commented.

Spock nodded, observing the internal scanners out of the corner of his eyes now, while he roamed over the readings of the external sensor readings. He informed the captain: "McCoy and Velal have stopped moving abruptly, Captain. I believe he understood. Now., they're very slowly approaching the chute," even as he drew conclusions about the cause of their power failure.

"Good! Spock, the scanners, what do they show of the outside? Where are we?" Kirk was multitasking. He couldn't help Bones any more from here, but there were other things that needed his attention.

"It seems we've grazed a quantum filament, Captain, a rare and extremely hard to detect, but natural astrophysical phenomenon. It has very likely caused our power failure."

"You believe it was an accident?" Kirk asked incredulously.

"Not necessarily, sir. We also …," he stopped, briefly averting his attention to the internal sensor readings again, "Captain, Dr. McCoy and Velal have overcome the hole in the ground. They are now moving up the slope to cargobay 1."

Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. "You also …?" he prompted.

"... detect the scout ship that sent the distress call we were attempting to answer in our immediate vicinity. They may have brought us here on purpose."

"Tamulok's ship?" Kirk asked.

"It's hull shows traces of trititanium."

"Orions!" Kirk concluded. They'd encountered a small Orion scout made of trititanium during the Babel mission.

"It would seem so, Captain," Spock nodded, "they're apparently still allied with Commander Tamulok."

"Where's he, now?" Kirk asked Spock, trying to imagine what it meant for the Federation, if Tamulok had really found allies within the Orion Syndicate, and was in possession of a biological weapon that could help control thousands of Romulans – and Vulcans. The scenarios he came up with were abhorrent.

"Aproaching the chute at a constant velocity," Spock said, his attention once more focussed on the readings.

Kirk tensed, then remembered something and shouted into his communicator for Scotty: "Scotty, the shields, do we have them?"

"Just a minute, captain," Scotty sounded far away.

"Spock, prepare to get the shields up, as soon as they're available. We don't want Tamulok to be beamed away this time."

"Yes, Captain," Spock said, already watching over Sulu's shoulder, who had a finger on the shield controls.

"Mr. Spock!" Chekov sounded excited, pointing at the readings, "the intruders have fallen through the chute into cargobay 2!"

"Lifesigns?" Kirk asked.

"Yes, Captain. They appear to be …," Spock halted uncharacteristically, never a good sign, and Kirk suddenly knew what it meant.

Without waiting for Spock to finish his sentence, he shouted at Scott again: "Scotty! Tractor beam, phasers, engines we need them _now_!" He knew how he sounded. Almost all of the ship's systems were dead, and he demanded the Enterprise to be ready to detain, destroy and pursue an Orion scoutship all at once. Tamulok just _couldn't_ escape once again!

He heard a low, familiar thrum, that told him the ship's shields had gone up, probably only a few seconds too late, and even before Spock announced to him that the three intruders had been transported away, he knew they'd lost the Romulan again.

"The Orion ship has gone to warp, Captain," Spock reported after another slight pause. That was it, they'd lost him, probably for good now.

He hit the wall once again, as he saw Chapel approaching him in the dim light of his flashlight.

"Captain? I'm glad to see, you didn't attempt climbing up that Jeffries tube," she said, smiling slightly.

He nodded, at her, absently. Well, even if he'd done that, it probably wouldn't have changed anything.

"Captain? Dr. McCoy for you," Uhura barely had time to warn him before he heard Bones' angry voice hollering:

"Jim, when are you thinking about setting up a decent search and rescue service? People may be hurt. _We're_ stuck in cargobay 1, which is _completely_ empty and, ..."

"BONES!" Kirk shouted to get in a word. He was relieved that Bones was still alive and well, but also didn't have the energy at the moment to deal with his enraged CMO. That he was bitching like that only showed him, that he really _was_ okay. So there were other, more important things, he needed to do at the moment, to take a painkiller for that headache, for example.

"Bones, we're doing all we can. We'll get you out in no time, I swear, just … try to get comfortable," he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"_Comfortable?_" Bones sounded … panicked? Kirk felt some worry forming inside him, what was wrong?

"Bones, you're okay?" he asked.

There was the sound of commotion, as if clothes were being ripped apart. Was he bleeding? Or Velal? Was he trying to make a bandage?

"_Okay_?" McCoy sounded exasperated, then suddenly, he sobered. "We're okay, Jim. Just, before your rescue party comes to pry open the doors, give us a warning, would you?"

Kirk frowned. "Why?"

"Just _do_. McCoy out."

He looked at Chapel, who was standing in front of him, a frown on her face that mirrored his own. She shrugged it away and raised her hand to reveal a hypo. "Here captain, it should ease your headache!" she explained.

Kirk nodded in acceptance. Christine had been right, it was a good thing, he hadn't attempted to reach the bridge through the Jeffries tubes. Even from the intercom in the corridor in front of sickbay, he had been at least able to find out what was wrong with his ship. They'd also gotten rid of Tamulok. He scratched his head that was beginning to clear from the pain again.

What had he wanted? He asked himself. Was it all about taking revenge on Velal? His mind wandered back to the beginning of this cirsis. Bones had been called to the brig, because of her, hadn't he? He still didn't know the reason for that.


	9. Chapter 9

As he turned away from the intercom, the dim emergency lights suddenly sprang on and McCoy looked back at Velal who was shuddering in front of him, drenched in sweat, clawing at her shirt with one hand. As far as he could tell, she had further deteriorated. She was still trembling, sweating, and breathing hard, but she also seemed to be much weaker than before. Her appearance seemed to be almost vulnerable and frail now. There was a tear from the collar of her shirt down to her armpit, baring her shoulder. Her other hand was clutching his own shirt, while she was trying to pull him towards her. She should have been much stronger than him, but right now she was so lacking in control, that her movements were clumsy, uncoordinated, erratic. He briefly contemplated knocking her out. Given the state she was in, he didn't have a bad chance of succeeding, however, he quickly dismissed the thought. He _was_ a doctor, and as such he had sworn an oath to prevent suffering. The strain of crawling along the Jeffries tube and the fear of her bond mate and his disruptor, had taken its toll on Velal. He let himself be pulled towards her, and then grabbed both her wrists, holding them bewteen them. His hands slowly slid up to reach hers. That had calmed her before, and he hoped it would now, too.

"Listen, Velal," he said, trying to hold her eyes which darted from left to right, moving like those of a wild, cornered animal, "I want to help you."

"Then, do!" she hissed, taking a step forward, pressing herself against his body. He swayed back and felt himself hit the wall. He sighed, then, mustering all his strength, he turned them both around, easily pinning Velal to the wall, her hands above her head.

Her eyes widened, as her back hit the wall, and McCoy frowned, surprised that it had been so easy to push her around.

"Look," he said gently, "we'll do this _my_ way. No biting, scratching, hitting!"

Her eyes stopped moving around, and she looked into his eyes, an unreadable smile on her lips.

"I won't hurt you," she whispered, a slight tremor in her voice, "so please, don't hurt _me_."

McCoy was puzzled for a moment. Hurt _her_?

"No! Why would I do that?" he asked, although at the same time he was thinking of many reasons why he would. They all had to do with self-defense.

"You're a human. I'm a Romulan," she said, as if that would explain everything.

"And?"

"We're natural enemies, and at the moment, my life is completely in your hands."

McCoy wasn't sure if she was being calculating. Of all things she could have said _that_ was what surely would make him compliant. He couldn't destroy life, and that's just what he'd do if he refused to help when it was in his power to save her. Being a Tal Shiar agent, she probably had studied his psychological profile thoroughly.

"_Natural_ enemies?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow, "I'm not as pessimistic towards a peace between our races as _you_ obviously are."

"I know the Romulan soul."

Her eyes were dark with emotion, only he could not quite make out which. Was it pain? Was it sorrow? Anger? Desire? Fear? Her hands were gripping his tightly, now. Her arms were still raised above her head, it must be uncomfortable, he thought.

"And yet, you are a Romulan, too," he said, gently pulling her arms down, "Don't _you_ think peace between us is … desirable?"

She was struggling to control her trembling, without success, but her voice was quite calm when she said: "Right now, I wish for nothing else."


	10. Chapter 10

Kirk sat at the conference table, watching his officers silently while Scotty informed them of the ship's status. They'd all seen better days. Since the worst of the crisis was over now, and the adrenalin had worn off, the stress of the last hours, and maybe even of the last days and weeks, started to show. They were all slightly slumped in their seats. Sulu was stifling a yawn, Chekov absently rubbed his eye, and Uhura had removed her earrings. Still, they were in great shape compared to Scotty. The engineer was sweating, his uniform, as well as the side of his face showed dark stains, maybe oil, or some other grease. He'd been working at warp speed ever since the power had gone, and although he'd done a great job, he knew Scotty felt like he'd failed. And Kirk suspected he wasn't completely innocent in the matter. They hadn't been able to prevent Tamulok from escaping _again_, it had annoyed him tremendously, and he had taken some of it out on Scotty. _Gotta make it up to him, maybe with some Saurian brandy? _

Spock was sitting hunched over in his chair in a way that made his uniform form creases. It was a sure sign that his first officer was utterly exhausted, cold and tired. Kirk knew he himself must look like the walking dead, his head was still bandaged, but he could feel the bandage had losened, it felt dirty and it itched. His hands had trembled just before he'd called the conference, but he'd gotten them under control again. He needed sleep.

Only McCoy was an exception to the sorry assembly of Starfleet's finest. He'd changed into a fresh uniform exchanging it for the surgical scrubs he'd worn ever since yesterday. He looked rested and content, something that Kirk found odd, and that ironically made him worry about his CMO nonetheless.

The seventh member at their conference table also looked as if she'd just run a marathon, she was slightly sweating and pale, but her eyes were alert and watched Scotty with interest. Kirk suddenly regretted having invited her. He needed to hear what she had to say about Tamulok, but he hated letting her hear confidential information about the Enterprise's current status. She's a _Romulan_, an _enemy_.

It would take another 3 hours to be able to go on warp again, but the shields and phasers were online, as well as the tractor beam and the transporters. The torpedoes would be ready within the hour, at least they weren't helpless anymore.

"What did Tamulok want?" Kirk directly addressed Velal, when Scotty had finished.

"He wanted _me_, Captain," the Romulan said, looking at him with such an open and honest expression, that Kirk grew suspicious.

"You? Why? The last time we saw him, he used you as a living shield to flee from that moon we were stranded on. He left you behind without second thought."

"That is correct. However, he is a man of great passions. That makes him not always act logically. I've betrayed him, it angers him. I've hurt his pride and he wants to take revenge on me. I don't expect _Vulcans_ to understand that sort of thinking, but it isn't totally alien to humans, or is it, Captain?" Velal arrogantly raised an eyebrow at Kirk, smiling.

It angered him, he didn't need this right now. The frown he knew had been planted on his face, ever since his head had started itching like this, grew darker and his mouth curved in a smile that was everything else, but friendly. _Romulans, male or female, were just arrogant bastards_.

McCoy also let out an annoyed sigh, at which Velal turned her head slightly. They exchanged a look, that Kirk found unsettling. _What's going on? _He took a breath to comment, when Velal continued:

"Captain, as I've said before, Tamulok is very dangerous. He's now losing control and spiralling more and more into madness. He is furious not only at me, but also at you, Captain, and especially your Doctor McCoy. It's consuming him, he'll never forget. A Romulan with such great wrath is always dangerous, but a Romulan who also has great power, and the Meriahni virus will give him greater power than any Romulan ever had, can destroy worlds. First, he'll concentrate on gaining control over the Tal Shiar and the Senate which will be easy, since he has got friends in both organisations. Then he'll take over the whole Romulan Empire. He may have had other ideas for his reign as Romulan Emperor, but now, there's only his wrath at me and you. He'll spend all his energy on one goal. To find revenge. He'll destroy your ship, kill everyone on Earth, enslave all Vulcans, and let you live to see it."

She said it in a quiet, but intense way that made Uhura stop breathing for a second. She was bluffing, wasn't she? What could one man alone do? One man against many _worlds_? Her eyes sought her captain and she relaxed as she saw him smiling, an amused look on his face.

"Your fantasies are quite entertaining, Velal," Kirk said, chuckling slightly, "which Merihani virus do you mean?"

He had paid attention. Velal had been in the brig for the last seven days. She knew the Enterprise had gone back to Meriah Five, but she couldn't have known about what had happened there, what he and McCoy had found out in the Prolia prison complex, namely that the virus that had befallen Tamulok's Romulan crew had been used by the Meriahni society as a means of controlling its people for centuries, that Meriah was in fact, Vor-Ka-Ri, the Romulans' first colony, and not that planet in the neutral zone.

Velal wasn't fazed by Kirk's act, she looked him straight into the eyes as she said: "Captain, do you think we would have stayed in orbit of a neutral planet that far away from our territory for five long years, if we hadn't suspected anything valuable there? Meriah is Vor-Ka-Ri, our lost colony. We've known that, long before you even contacted the Meriahni government."

McCoy turned towards her, his eyebrows raised in amusement: "And you let us believe that that deserted planet in the neutral zone was it? Imagine, Spock, the embarassment for the Vulcan Science Academy! They were ready to declare they'd found their legendary Atlantis, and would have sent a legion of archeologists, historians, diplomats, and specialists of ancient Vulcan mythology to dig in a great pile of plain old dirt! It would have taken years before they'd given up. And behind the scenes, the Romulans would have secretly laughed their ears off!"

"If the Romulan Senate knows about the virus, why don't they react?" Spock asked, ignoring McCoy's comment.

"Because they _don't_ know about the virus," Velal corrected him, "The Meriahni government protects its secret fiercely, and when Tamulok found out about it, he did not even think about telling either the Tal Shiar, or the Senate. To keep them unsuspicious he fed them with other information, though. Meriah _is_ a kind of utopia, considering their level of technology. The Romulan Empire has profited from it greatly. For example, I believe you have witnessed what their shield technology is capable of."

Kirk remembered the five Romulan warbids under the command of the Romulan rebel Valdran and Tamulok's ship that had all been destroyed at Tamulok's order when their shields had ignited in a green light and had easily destroyed the six ships. It was possible that Tamulok had acquired this technology on Meriah, after all, what he'd heard from Spock, the Meriahni prison complex had been destroyed in a similar way.

"_Valdran_ didn't know," he said, challenging Velal.

"Valdran, Captain, was an enemy of the Romulan government. She didn't have any access to top secret information like that. However, you can be assured, that all Romulan vessels have been equipped with those new Meriahni technologies, which greatly improve our tactical efficiency."

Kirk smirked. Even though Velal was trying to win his confidence, she couldn't stop boasting about the Romulan fleet's power. Kirk suspected, however, she was greatly exaggerating. The Romulans had been awfully quiet in the last months, there were rumours about a rebellion, even a civil war that was weakening the empire. "Of course. How did _you_ come to know about the virus then?"

"I'm a Tal Shiar agent, Captain. I know how to obtain information like that, and Tamulok trusted me," she said with a self-conscious smile that caught Kirk's attention.

"Why?" he prodded.

McCoy cleared his throat, looking at his hands. _He knows more than I do_, Kirk concluded, but did not avert his eyes from Velal's face.

"I was his wife, Captain," she said, holding his gaze.

"_Was_?" McCoy echoed, a bit too loud to mirror Kirk's surprise at the revelation.

Velal had once told him that she valued loyalty, when he'd asked her why she hadn't killed Tamulok herself when she'd had the opportunity. Why count on the Federation to kill him? Maybe it had something to do with the bond Romulans and Vulcans allegedly assummed when they got married?

"Yes, Doctor. The bond between him and me has recently been severed."

"Wh … What? I mean, _how_? I mean, … you were married?" McCoy was clearly shocked for a moment, but got himself under control only a second later. It was enough to make Spock raise an inquisitve eyebrow at the doctor and enough for Kirk to make up his mind to interview McCoy thoroughly about his time when he'd been alone with Velal, but that could wait.

"So you were married," Kirk continued, thinking aloud, "I think you once said he wanted to make you empress of the Romulan Empire. But you betrayed him, and obviously want to stop him."

She nodded, and Kirk continued: "Well, ... we're listening."

"Good. But, … first I'm interested in what you intend to do with me after I've helped you to capture him."

Kirk briefly considered lying to her, but decided against it: "We have the order to deliver you over to Starfleet Intelligence. Once they have you, they'll never let you go."

He looked at her, trying to read her face which looked back blankly. Beside her, Bones wasn't happy. Kirk knew the look. It was the protective, warning glare Bones used whenever Kirk questioned an injured man in sickbay a bit too intensely, or when he reprimanded a young crewman too roughly, or, even worse, unjustifiedly, or when Kirk would blame himself for some mission gone wrong. It was _tha_t look that Kirk loved Bones for, though he had to admit, it was damned uncomfortable to hold it, so he averted his eyes. Heaven only knew what Starfleet Intelligence would do to Velal, once they had her. He doubted it was pretty, but he also knew that the Tal Shiar had probably worse methods. When Velal had joined the organisation, she must have known about the dangers, and although she claimed to want to help them, she wasn't innocent.

"I see. It seems, we are not so different from each other, then," Velal whispered, then continued in a steady voice: "Tamulok's accomplices are Orions. The Tal Shiar and the Orion Syndicate loosely cooperate when they believe it is to both their benefits. We usually pay the Orions with latinum, something that Tamulok didn't have with him when he fled. He's had many dealings with the Orions in the past, and he's got connections to some Orion operatives, but he still would have to give them something as payment for their services."

"He had the Trill ship," Sulu reminded her.

"Hardly enough pay to get the Orions to lure Starfleet's flagship into a trap and risk an open war with the Federation. At least not, if they didn't intend to capture her. But I believe they didn't think they were enough people to do that, and Tamulok would have wanted to let as few people as possible into his plans."

Kirk bit the inside of his lip. It had also crossed his mind. Why hadn't they tried to capture and seize the Enterprise completely? He thought with unease that it _would_ have been possible during the power failure.

"He has a secret hideaway on a planet in sector Z6, where he not only stores latinum, weapons and other supplies, but where he also has a wife and a child."

"_Another_ wife?" Uhura started, finding all of this quite unbelievable.

"Yes. A Terran woman he was acquainted with before _we_ got married. He's lived with her for some years, picked up quite some Terran colloquialisms and Earth mythology from her. Their child, a son, is about fifteen, I believe."

"And he's told you about them?" Uhura continued asking.

"Of course. They were part of his cover. Believe me, it is not uncommon for Tal Shiar agents to have whole families on several worlds."

"It isn't? And, do _you_ have several husbands and kids on other planets, too?" McCoy asked her.

"Possibly," she turned around to look at him with an ironic smile on her lips.

"So, even if that _is_ his secret retreat, he still would need to go to Meriah for the virus, wouldn't he?" Scotty asked, looking at Velal in confusion.

"I'm not sure. You shouldn't underestimate his ability to plan foresightedly. He wouldn't have had only one plan without, as you would call it, a plan B or a plan C. When we escaped Starbase Three the plan was to return to Meriah, but he probably would have abandoned that plan after he found out I betrayed him."

Kirk nodded, thinking. "Which system, which planet?" he demanded finally.

"The third planet of the Fvillhail system."

"I've been there once," Sulu piped up, "It's a struggling agricultural earth colony with only about 25,000 colonists, if I recall correctly. It was one of the first planets I visited after my graduation at the Academy. We were on a geological survey mission, found some very rare minerals in the equatorial regions, but nothing of importance to the Federation."

"I've located the Trill ship somewhere in sector Z6 two days ago," Uhura reminded them.

"So he _was _there. But, he wouldn't go there again _now_, would he?" Chekov asked.

"He still has to pay the Orions," Velal said, "they never get everything in advance. He probably still owes them at least half their salaries."

Kirk nodded, barely resisting to scratch his head. Should he risk trusting Velal, a Romulan secret agent who wanted them to chase another Romulan, instead of following an order to turn her over to Intelligence?

"Captain," Velal's voice was subdued, "I am aware that I'm your prisoner, your enemy. And you have no reason to trust me. If roles were reversed, and you had been a captive on a Romulan vessel, you would have been tortured and questioned. No one would believe what you said _voluntarily_. Very likely, they would have killed you, believing you were either insane or sent to deceive them."

She paused, wetting her lips. "But you are human. You are more flexible in your thinking and capable of putting your prejudices behind you, that's what I've learnt from you, and you have my admiration for that." She glanced at McCoy before she continued: "I could be sentenced to death by the High Court of Romulus for giving away all the information about Tamulok, the Tal Shiar and the discovery of Vor-Ka-Ri that I've just given you. Part of me resents myself for betraying my people, but I'm convinced that collaborating with you, is the only way to avert suffering of both our people."

She had finished, and Kirk waited for a few seconds, before he pressed the comm button to call in the security guards that had been waiting outside and ordered them to get Velal back to the brig. He needed to think, so after a few words to his officers he dismissed them.

Bones and Spock were the last to leave the room, but as Kirk held McCoy back, Spock stayed as well.

"You trust her, Bones." It wasn't a question. Kirk had seen the looks his friend had given the Romulan.

"I … do," McCoy said haltingly, "but I wouldn't trust my judgement much on that, Jim."

"Now, _that's_ a riddle," Kirk said, frowning, "What did Velal want from you, when she called you, before the power went out?"

"She wasn't feeling well," McCoy said, and for a moment it seemed as if that was all he was going to say about it, but then he continued: "She hadn't eaten in days, could not control her slightest emotions. Her temperature, pulse, her whole body chemistry was way off, and Osborne told me, she had thrown a bowl of plomeek soup at the wall this morning."

Spock's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and McCoy could swear he saw a slight blush on his face, but maybe it was just imagination. He knew, though, that he himself was blushing. No doubt, the Vulcan had already deduced what had happened in cargo bay 1. Only Jim was a bit slow, or maybe he was just being mean.

"Pon Farr?" he asked innocently.

"Well, Romulans have another name for it, but … yes."

"Oh. ... And …," Kirk scrutinized his CMO from head to toe and then back up again. He was okay, looked … rested, and slightly flushed with embarassement.

"Jim, stop it, I'm alright, Velal's alright, and that's all I'm ever going to tell you about that."

From beside Jim, Spock nodded, and, not quite meeting the doctor's eyes, said: "I believe that explains why Velal said Tamulok was furious at Dr McCoy. The bond between him and Velal was severed when ..."

"Wait a minute!" McCoy cut in quickly, before Spock was able to finish his sentence.

"Bones!" Kirk met his friend's eyes amusedly. "You old philanderer! I say you ..."

"Stop it! And _you_ should really not be talking like that Captain Don Juan Kirk. And Spock, I did what was logical. Now _you_ of all people should understand that. And as I said, it's really none of your business. So shut up about it. And leave me alone."

"I do understand, doctor," blessedly Spock had understood the warning, and acquiesced.

"Well, Bones, I say you should have a little more respect for your captain. I'll be quiet for now. But, what I'd really like to know is ..."

"Should you trust her," McCoy finished quickly, fearing his captain would ask him some indecent question about Romulan anatomy.

Kirk repressed a smile, "Yes."

"As I said, I'd say yes. But you may want to obtain a second opinion."

"Captain, Velal is loyal to the Romulan Star Empire. As such, she cannot be trusted by us, who are their enemy. However, I also believe Velal is interested in capturing Commander Tamulok, for she is convinced he is a danger to the Empire. As long as our goals are the same as hers, I believe, she will not betray us. Moreover, if we want Tamulok ourselves, we almost have no other choice than to trust her."

Kirk had sobered, nodding absently. "Spock, I think you're right. We must trust our Tal Shiar agent. However, I intend to be very careful."

End o00

Cliffhanger :-) ! I'm sorry, but I couldn't find another way to finish this story. It will be continued in "Greed"


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